The school holidays are now well and truly over and it's back to the grind which also means back to Big Dunc's for the next round of torture before my back packs in again. I am hoping the chiro manages to to keep me sorted though. 'I' picked me up this morning in her new car - a convertible. I am ashamed to say that I was like a kid in a candy shop, never having been in convertible before (I have obviously led a sheltered life!). We arrived at the gym in style for Aquafit and slid into the pool with the rest of the class which consisted of us, four other ladies and two OAPS. I took a look round and thought 'Is this it?' There I was, flapping about in a swimming pool with Derby and Joan who had more wrinkles between them than an Indian Elephant. I need to be more dynamic. I also need to be slimmer, lighter and fitter. I imagined myself knocking seven bells out of a punch bag in the body combat class and felt knackered at the thought...
After the school fayre meeting the other night I came home with my list of orders. The tasks for this year have been divvied up to try and lighten the load. I have to:
1 - scrounge 4 raffle prizes from local businesses (a ruddy thankless task in some cases)
2 - order crimp in hair braids to adorn the little darlings nit infested nappers
3 - coordinate helpers on the day (in otherwords say 'right you are on this stall...on ye go!')
4- arrange pick up of the leftover donations after the fayre (if nobody wanted them on the day it's hardly likely anyone will want them later, a stop off at the local dump might be just as useful
5 - (my personal favorite) sort the donations in school in the week leading up to the fayre.
Sorting donations is hilarious. There is nothing like raking through other folks junk. In the past few years we have had everything from radioactive bath salts (ones from M&S fifteen years old), a delightful cup and saucer affair with handy ashtray built in bearing the words ' a sip and a smoke' - more like a puff and a choke. But my personal favorite has to be the Little Britain doll of Matt Lucas dressed as Daffyd the Only Gay in the Village, resplendant in his red pvc hot pants. Just what the vicar ordered! I remember myself and 'I' raking through a rather wierd bag of stuff only to discover it was actually the contents of someones black rubbish bag which should have went out for the bin cart. Goodness knows what happened to the real stuff, we were left sorting through balls of hair, ripped up newspapers and crisp bags when the penny finally dropped.....